Randon was a Patriot, that’s what they called him now. Like it was some dirty word. Branded a Patriot like someone would brand a witch, and hunted like one too. In his life long passed he was a full fledged member of The Council of Twenty, but he worked his way up to it, and she knew every little dirty secret he ever had. Every underhanded, sneaky, and terrible thing he’d ever done, willfully, or by complete chance. She called him the man with the overactive pen.
Mike: “No, no Paddy,” Jim quickly replied. “You know me Pad, I wasn’t even thinking of his money. I swear it.”
By: Neonorth-A tinge of saffron scented the après dawn sky though Jackie, her sunken hazel eyes rolled back, half collapsed against the wall with the tin foil covering the small pane of glass save for the thin slit one inch by four inch long that had only a moment before been created by her ring dragging across it, was far too busy choking on her own vomit to notice it.